


so much for the facts

by crownsandbirds



Category: One Piece
Genre: ?? kinda?, Character Study, Early Mornings, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, Internalized Homophobia, Nightmares, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, and so bc he has a brain and Taste he's attracted to luffy and zoro, but its not like anything happens, this is my take on sanji actually being gay and pretending he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: "Some days, Sanji wakes up before dawn. Or rather, he gets out of bed before dawn - to wake up, first you have to sleep, and an uninterrupted night of sleep is something that happens to other people."Sanji's mornings go somewhat like this.





	so much for the facts

**Author's Note:**

> "So the doctor says you need more  
> stitches and the bruise cream isn’t working. So much for the facts."
> 
> (you are jeff - richard siken)

Some days, Sanji wakes up before dawn. Or rather, he gets out of bed before dawn - to wake up, first you have to sleep, and an uninterrupted night of sleep is something that happens to other people.

 

He slides out from under the covers, combs his fingers through his hair to make it as neat as possible without having to search around the dark room for a hairbrush, leaves without making any kind of noise louder than the shuffling of his steps and the inevitable rhythm of his breathing.

 

Sanji was taught from a young age how to exist quietly, without bothering other people with the mere fact of his presence. Some childhood lessons are just too well-taught to ever be forgotten.

 

One hand on the doorknob, he steals a glance at Luffy's sleeping face.

 

Ever since Marineford, Luffy hasn't slept very well. He tosses and turns, whimpers in his sleep. Every other night, Sanji hears sobs. Names muffled into the pillow.

 

Every morning, however, Luffy is as sunlight-bright as ever, his smile just as wide, his eyes just as warm.

 

So, Sanji doesn't ask. It's not his place to ask questions.

 

Today, Luffy has a frown between his eyebrows, his hands clenched into fists around the blankets, and yet, he sleeps. Sanji envies that, envies every person in the world who has ever been able to sleep. He thinks he would take the nightmares and the pillows wet with tears, if only he was able to get more than two hours of uninterrupted rest.

 

 _Help me, captain,_ he wants to say, wants to wake Luffy up and beg him. _Save me again, as you did before. Tell me what to do. Make things easier. Stay awake with me._

 

It's selfish, he knows. It's selfish to burden other people with the useless weight of his existence.

 

He wipes a stray tear from Luffy's cheek with his thumb and closes the door quietly behind himself when he leaves.

 

No one is awake when he reaches the deck. This is why he gets out of bed before dawn. When he has nights like this, his throat closes up around itself, his mind collapses, and he wouldn't be able to so much as bid a _good morning_ , let alone keep up in any sort of way with his hyperactive group of crewmates.

 

This and, someone has to make breakfast.

 

There are only a few positions in a pirate ship that require activity at all times. Captain, he supposes, although his own captain does everything so naturally and poses his orders so seamlessly Sanji thinks it hardly counts as _activity_. Navigator, too, which Nami-san does brilliantly; and cook.

 

Sanji is grateful for the occupation most of the time. It gives him something to do, something he _loves_ to do. He loves the smell of food, the feel of the ingredients under his hands. Loves to rule over his kitchen, his little perfect place in their glorious ship, loves to welcome his crew with a feast every single day. Feels proud when they inevitably go back to the Sunny when they get hungry, no matter what island or what country they find themselves in, because _no food tastes as good as Sanji's._

 

Some days, however, every now and then, he's just - tired.

 

It's not the ungrateful type of exhaustion. He _loves_ what he does and his home and his new family. The sea and the wind and the long stretch of blue in front of him. Freedom, above all; owing Luffy his life and knowing that means freedom. He wouldn't change it, wouldn't trade it for anything.

 

But he gets tired. Sometimes, everything is just - so much. _So much._ The restless nights, the loud voices, the fighting and the memories and so.

 

He pulls a chair for himself, lights a cigarette, watches the slow sunrise.

 

"Here for the beautiful view?" Robin asks from behind her book.

 

A cloud of white smoke. The scent of nicotine is comforting. "Something like that, yeah."

 

Robin is the only one out of all of them who ever keeps him company in these lazy mornings. They don't really talk. He doesn't pretend to flirt; doesn't ask her why she's up so early. They just sit on the deck, chairs far apart, and watch the sunrise together until Sanji has to get up and make breakfast.

 

"Want a cup of tea?" he offers, because the instinctive urge to make his existence useful in any way, to somehow make up for the oxygen he wastes just by being alive, is strong no matter what time of day it is; and, at the very least, if nothing else, he knows how to cook.

 

"If it's not a bother, sure."

 

He exhales more white smoke from between his lips. "Will do. In a moment."

 

She smiles gently at him, gives a graceful _thank you_ nod, turns a page on her book.

 

Nico Robin is the type of woman Sanji could fall in love with.

 

He's tried, incessantly, with other women, throughout his life - but he can't stop his eyes from straying towards men anymore than he can find the guts to cut his own hands off; and he can lie, can't he, he can pretend to swoon and melt over curves and long hair, but this is just one of the multiple ways he failed his sorry excuse for a biological father years ago, and he can't suddenly turn into the perfect son anymore than he can suddenly stop looking at the way Zoro's muscles shift when he's doing push-ups or how Luffy's eyes shine when he laughs.

 

He thinks Robin knows. The way she glances at him sometimes, with this infinite amount of gentle pity, like she _knows_. Like she understands, above all. Like she wishes she could help.

 

He thinks of how the scar on Luffy's cheek felt under the pad of his thumb.

 

He takes another drag of his cigarette.

 

The sun is already completely over the straight line that divides the sky and the sea. Sanji finishes smoking and walks to the kitchen and does his job.

 

And maybe the sight of his captain sitting on the counter, kicking the air idly and gulfing down the pancakes he made and going on and on about how _good they are, Sanji, you're the best!_ ; and the feeling of the ocean wind coming through the open window and ruffling his soft blonde hair; and even _Zoro_ , the absolute asshole, lifting his sleep-heavy eyes to mumble something to the lines of _tastes nice, shitty cook;_

 

Maybe it makes things easier. Maybe it's worth it.

 

For the first time in his life, Sanji truly wants to stick around and find out.

  


**Author's Note:**

> oda i love sanji but please. you're destroying your own great character. this is me trying to fix him for you, see?


End file.
